Remember the scene from Independence Day when all of the glassy eyed hippies gathered at the top of the Empire State Building with their welcome signs and watched in awe as the spaceship loomed above them, opening up and shedding a bright beam of light that one awed, wispy girl declared was "SO BEAUTIFUL" nanoseconds before the beam blasted everything, the hippies, the skyscraper, everything into a pile of dust?
Cru is that alien spaceship. And I miss The Ropewalk.
It's not that I'm JUST averse to change. Change is fine as long as it's for the better, which sadly is not the case here. My family and I have been coming to Nantucket for the week surrounding Independence Day for the past 10 years, and for 9 of those years, the routine was the same. Dock at the Boat Basin, make a beeline for the back bar at the Ropewalk for lunch on that first day (and every day of our stay thereafter) Whale's Tails at 11, lunch at noon. Every day. So imagine our horror this year, when we arrive at our beloved Ropewalk to first notice that the outdoor seating in front of the restaurant has been replaced with some nebulous banquettes like some sort of ridiculous lounge. "This is going to make the wait for a table much longer," we thought as we walked through the front door to be greeted by a nightmare. "Christmas is canceled," Cru seemed to sneer at us with an evil grin. "The picture of Madaket Millie holding the cake is gone, we only have three weird beers on draft that taste like Vick's Vapor Rub and you can forget about a casual, classic dining experience." Our faces fell as we realized the horrible truth. "This is not The Ropewalk." "Nope," chirped the perfectly lovely and unassuming bartender. "Welcome to Cru." I can't be the first person to make a Cru d'Etat pun here. I can't be the only person who hates what's happened to this beautiful restaurant location.
Sure, it's easy on the eyes, but in a fussy way. The front room features a long, family style, high table with absurdly high brass chairs that each weigh literally around 200lbs and are so disproportionate to the table they surround that if you're in the vicinity of 6 feet tall, and I've spent enough time on Nantucket to know that MANY of the people there are (I'm looking at you, Town, where you walk in and are instantly surrounded by so many handsome giants it might as well be a Harvard Varsity Crew Reunion every night), you can forget about fitting your legs under the table. It's a real catch-22, because anyone strong enough to move the thrones is probably not going to be able to fit their legs under the table while sitting on them. So, that's pretty stupid.
Stupider still, however, was the lack of Whale's Tail (they don't have it on draft OR by the bottle) and completely lackluster versions of classic, SIMPLE TO PREPARE New England summer staples. Let's put aside the fact that their burger and lobster roll, menu items whose deliciousness typically stems from their purity, were hysterically over priced and smothered in asinine herbs and bizarre potions, and focus on the fact that you have got to have SOME NERVE to be a restaurant on that island and NOT serve the locally brewed beer.
I see the writing on the wall here. I see the weird, out of place crowd perched on those high, heavy brass thrones, wearing stilettos and sunglasses inside. They are Hamptons people. Lost Beverly Hills/Manhattan types who heard about Nantucket from a friend of a friend and thought they'd give it a whirl, not really understanding the true appeal of an island where the beauty is in its relaxed, laissez faire, island time attitude. Munching on their rosemary aioli garbage lobster rolls, sipping their cucumber infused cocktails (which are served in coupe glasses, I will give that one to Cru, coupe glasses are cute) and thinking about how good they look doing it. That's fine, I get it, I live in L.A., I've been to New York, I know how the world works. That stuff has a time and a place, and that is not Nantucket. I read a bumper sticker on the island that summed it up pretty nicely: "Welcome to Nantucket, now go back to your Hamptons...No, seriously. Go." Not every expensive East Coast vacation town needs to be the same. Cru needs to either recognize this or go the way of the dinosaurs.
All that being said, they did have a lovely raw bar and the oysters were good. But it's pretty hard to screw up an appetizer that otters manage to prepare for themselves every day. read more